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Showing posts from May, 2008

Bush Administration: You A Lie

My father believed that teachers didn’t lie. At least that was the position he took whenever one of us tried to tell him something bad about a teacher, such as we had been punished or graded unfairly. His response was always something to this effect, in his Southern dialect, no less: You a lie. Teacher ain’t got to lie. She got her education. You the fool ain’t got no education.

This is akin to my visceral response to the Bush administration branding yet another of its former staffers a liar or, in Bushspeak, a “disgruntled former employee.”

Now, having been a disgruntled former employee on more occasions than I care to share, I can tell you that the tales of Scott McClellan, George Tenet and Richard Clark go way far beyond the last-minute office supply theft and hard drive cleansing characteristic of most disgruntled employees (not that I’m admitting to any of that.) One of them lying, maybe. Two, questionable. Three? Hmmm.

Then again, in my book, the Bush administration lost any vesti…

If Virginia Is For Lovers, Is West Virginia For Bigots?

On Sunday, my local paper featured a column by Miami Herald columnist Leonard Pitts regarding West Virginia and the “problem” some of its residents seem to have with voting for Barack Obama. The column stated that, according to exit polls from their primary, two out of every 10 voters stated that race was a major factor in how they cast their ballots. Mr. Pitts referred to a clip from “The Daily Show” featuring a white woman who explained her refusal to vote for Obama: “I guess because he is another race. I’m sort of scared of the other race ‘cause we have so much conflict with ‘em.” Pitts went on to remark how sad he found this and made a point that Critical Race Theory scholars from Derrick Bell on down have been making for decades: That the white poor have been victims of a con job by rich whites, who have used them as fodder to maintain their own socio-economic status going back to the “states’ rights” justification for the Civil War and continuing on with them as the front line o…

State of the Union

About five years.”

-- The answer I received from my friend Sheila, who now lives in North Carolina, when I asked, “How many years of marriage does it take until you start feeling comfortable in your marriage?”

On Saturday I celebrated five years of marriage to my husband, BMNB (Black Man Not Blogging). We celebrated by allowing each other to do what we really wanted to do – I went on a gardening tear while he vegged on the sofa and caught up on some much needed sleep.

I can’t say that I was always assured that we would reach five years.

Right before I got married, I made peace with being single. I embraced it, had started to plan my life on the assumption that I would never marry. Having married late in life, I’ve tended to be somewhat utilitarian about marriage – that marriage should make you better off than you would have been had you remained single. Not financially, but emotionally.

That hasn’t always been the case in my marriage.

I’ve felt, at times, that I carried more than my fair s…

Patience: I Plant; God Decides.

“If you’re not killing plants, you’re not growing as a gardener.”

A gardener quoted in my local newspaper.

Patience. It’s so hard to have at this time of year in the Sacramento valley. It’s hotter than Hades, and, if you’re like me and you’ve been slowly working on making a garden out of quintessential south Sacramento valley soil – a big plot of clay and weeds -- it’s easy to be impatient when you see everyone else’s impatiens and other plants in bloom.

Patience. It’s the mantra of the novice gardener. Really, it’s the mantra of life.

I’m trying not to spend too much money on this garden, since I’m only renting this big plot of clay soil and weeds. The last time I spent substantial sums to put in a garden in a rental (which some would say is, by itself, a sign of insanity), I received a 60-day notice to quit a few days after my plants were in the ground. But my efforts to save money have lead to even more frustration – the seeds I tried to start in my home office were overtaken by…

If They Steal It, I Will Walk

Black Democrats need to have their own nuclear option going into the convention in Denver. Here’s mine: If they steal it, I will walk.

That is, if the Democratic party steals the nomination from Obama by increasing the number of delegates needed to secure the nomination or seating the Florida or Michigan delegations, I will not only not vote Democratic, I will vote for McCain.

I say this as a third-generation Democrat, the granddaughter of a black woman who named her twin sons after Franklin D. Roosevelt and Huey P. Long. Yes, I come from those kind of Democrats, blacks who have been loyal to the party since Roosevelt. Loyal despite moves not to seat the integrated Democrat delegation from Mississippi from the ‘60’s to appease racist white Southern Democrats (Fannie Lou Hamer, anyone?). Loyal through a bunch of loser nominees like Dukakis.

It’s time for the loyalty that blacks have demonstrated time and again to the Democratic Party to be returned in kind. I’m not asking for specia…